@ - your parents sound horrendous - you said you have PTSD - I got a lot out of the book by Pete Walker "Complex PTSD - from Surviving to Thriving" - I really recognised myself in reading it and it felt like I'd been seen at last, by someone.  

Rags - thanks - I know you've had good parenting, so thanks for understanding. 

ESMOD wrote:

Oh my... the having relations with kids in the room.. that is uh.. gross... and very oddly boundary blasting.

I will say though.. that of course.. those kinds of examples are horrible.. but I also see a lot of people who don't give their parents grace to be human beings.. and understand that everyone is mostly just figuring out life as we go along.. and don't always do it perfectly.

So, not excusing or talking about outright abusive practices.. but like my brother who I think holds the belief that most people have grown up in brady bunch homes.. and that somehow our parent's dysfunction was out of the ordinary... the more I live.. and at almost 60.. that's a lot of years.. I find that EVERYONE seems to have some dysfunction in their family.. maybe it's a parent who was not as demonstrative.. maybe it was a "tiger mom".. maybe it was high expectations.. maybe it was not being great at teaching their kids good social skills.. or parents who didn't have great marriages.. or bad stepparent situations.

But.. again.. the adults are doing their lives for the "first time" too.. and I think kids.. even adult kids.. don't give their parents credit or grace for their humanity.. and that not everyone will react perfectly... and that we all have histories that color our lives.

As usual, wisdom from ESMOD.

My parents were young when they married. 19 &17.  Still young when they had their first child (me) 21&19.   I have long maintained that the three of us grew up together.  My brother was born when they were 27 and 25 and they were 30 and 27 when my youngest brother was born.  They were 30 and 28 when he passed.

 Being 6yrs the elder to #2 gave me some time as an only and for mom, dad, and me to establish our synch.  9-10yrs later I had a huge epiphany.  I had left for boarding school and was home for either Christmas or summer break.  We were all in the yard and my brother was irritated with our parents and was arguing and yelling at them.  I was shacked to the point of being slack jawed.  I said something about how that would have gotten me killed and what they were going to do about it.   Dad turned to me and said;  We are still learning to be parents. It is a never-ending education.  Your brother owes you an eternal debt of gratitude for teaching us the early stages of what that means.

On parents being people, living their lives, being a couple, etc...   Our parents have always been demonstrably affectionate with each other.  Holding hands, dancing spontaneously in any number of situations, and they are and always have been very sexual beings together.  Not inappropriately or in front of us, but they have never made it a secret either.  I have walked in on them a number of times over the years both when growing up as a minor and even a few times as a young adult when I busted through a closed door without thinking.  We have had a couple of laugh until we cannot breath and have tears running down our faces on the adult aged incidents.  The second to last was when I was in my mid 20s and we were visiting my brother at school.  My dad is cheap so we had a hotel room with two queen sized beds. My brother was till on campus and I was at the restaurant/bar/pool socializing.  I do not recall why I went back to the room. I rapidly swiped my room card and walked in.  I froze.  Mom and dad froze, and I just sat down on the foot of their bed and busted out laughing and we all just lost it.

Nearly a decade later the 4 of us were on a summer road trip while my brother and I were in engineering school.  Dad in his usual axe murderer hotel cheap manner picked a cabin themed very old hotel in the woods. The cabin had a large main room with the main bed, a kitchenette and a living room, and a second small room with two twin beds.  My brother and I were in that room. In the middle of the night, I got up to use the restroom which was accessed through the main room. I did want to wake anyone up, so I quietly opened the door to the main room and quietly closed it.  Mom and dad were being mom and dad.  To this day that memory gives me a smile.  More than 30yrs later.

I condemn abusive parents. I celebrate parents who are living their lives well and setting healthy examples for their children regardless of the age of those children.   

The demonization of parents by fee fee driven Zinniels, Alphas, etc..  is contemptable IMHO and those kids need a parental foot up the arse regardless of what age those children may be.  Sadly, it is the parents that failed those kids. Failed to raise them to be robust, live their own lives, recognize reality, and know that their parents are to be respected and revered. Barring any extenuating inappropriate parental behaviors that determine otherwise.

IMHO of course.

Yes, probably a bit of my no gray world view.
 

ESMOD - you appear to have muddled me up with @.   

I was on Step Talk for 14 yrs, and was always impressed by the quality of the advice that members gave each other.  I believe that everyone there - and here - knows the difference between good enough parents who sometimes get it wrong - even very wrong - and downright abusive parents.  Many of us had to contend with step children and adult steps who believed themselves to have been given a raw deal by their parent/step parent - whereas in actual fact those people were trying their best to do what is right for the SKIDs.   My parents were in the downright abusive category, and I didn’t start this thread for those of us who had parents like that, to have to defend why we thought they are/were abusive.  When I was 9, I was abducted and sexually assaulted - a horrible thing to happen to any child.  However, it could have been mitigated a lot by being able to tell my parents and be comforted and for the police to have tracked down the man responsible.  As it was, I never told them.  The first person I told was my future husband when I was 20 yrs old.  Carrying that burden alone all those years (because I was afraid to tell my parents) has warped my life.  I didn’t tell all the details about that event until last year when I was 67 - when I went through it blow by blow - with my (2nd) husband.  

Last edited by Kes (10/03/2025 7:44 am)

Yes I think you are right Mia, about our upbringing making us tolerate things we should not tolerate. I feel my father "trained" me to be a victim, in a sense.  
I'm sorry to hear about the grooming with your sister's bf.  I originally had two brothers but the eldest killed himself when I was 13.  I always worshipped my surviving brother, I thought he was wonderful, until he stopped speaking to me around 2020 - and because he lives far from me I didn't actually cotton on to this until 2022, when I asked him what was wrong.  He came up with some literally made up rubbish that I'd been talking about him behind his back, which I hadn't.  The real reason was that I am still good friends with his first wife, (they got divorced  many years ago) and I moved nearer to her in 2020.  To cut a long story short, we are now estranged. 

My general observation is that bad/exploitative people can target anyone, but those with early trauma are way more vulnerable, because we have a target on our forehead that says: “this person won’t tell”. We may come across as frightened or as over-the-top rebels, or confidently and compulsively caring (I’m looking at those in medical, teaching, social work professions etc.), but we all have a scent that abusers will sniff out. Our quietness, shyness, bravery, can-do attitude, desire to fit in, desire to stand out all can be used against us, and will be used against us until were learn to stop taking it and letting cruelty and exploitation into our lives because abusers won’t stop on their own accord.

I had “very nice” academic, accomplished parents that everyone wanted to have. My father was a tee-totaler, whom neighbours would call upon when they needed furniture put together, and my mother always came along on school excursions (even though parental volunteering was not required) and told riveting stories about places of historical importance we were visiting. So when I complained or acted as a class clown and was otherwise disruptive, it was because I was a spoilt brat of wonderful parents. Little did they know that I was beaten most days (there was a period where I was belted every second day), but in a clever way where clothes would cover blood and welts. My sense of shame was also used against me, as I colluded in going to great lengths to wear the kind of clothes that hid everything. And I’m pretty sure my father got some sick pleasure out if it too. I was beaten for the grades they didn’t like (I was overall a high achiever), for being reported as chatting in class or secretly eating, for not immediately doing as I was told and after every parent-teacher evening as well as after every parental screaming match.

That started when I was 6 and didn’t stop till I was 16 and tried to take my life, not seeing any way out of it. Thankfully I survived and told a kind teacher the next day, who pulled my parents in and had a talk to them. Mind you, nothing was ever reported to social services or the police, but at least they never laid a hand on me again, with the exception of my father twisting my arm behind my back on my 19th birthday and causing some lasting damage that I can still feel in my mid-late 40s, being unable to have a full rotation of that shoulder without pain.

They, however, especially my father continued with threats that they could still beat me up if they wanted to, throughout my 20s., even though I left home at 20. And recently attempted to make these threats again, also screaming relentlessly during  my misguided attempt to believe they had changed, on all expenses paid (by me) post-covid holiday to another side of the world where I live. My mother switched on her mega-enabler mode and screamed at me that “if I just do as he tells me, there’d be no arguments”, meaning that I serve him the right kind of tea at the right time and such. In my own home that I brought them over to show off. Then both promptly switched to victim modes, including a pretend medical episode, which I’ve seen many of and just ignored. This went on for the duration of their stay for a couple of weeks - in public and at home.

Never again. I now maintain a very polite and superficial relationship with them for my own sake.

Even though I left home and the country as soon as I could at 20, my upbringing continued wreaking havoc for another two decades in varying degrees, although I think there was a general trend towards improvement, however slow.

Since I was rebellious and swore to myself to never be with a violent man, I ended up in a string of relationships with men who were abusive in all other possible ways. They would also make vague promises of a family only to switch later on, which ultimately and sadly was probably for the best as I would not want to be tied to any of them. As a result I also missed out on a family of my own and on any practical partnership - even though I was in relationships, I was alone and paid for my mortgages alone, planned for and funded my own University degrees while working multiple jobs and often allowed freeloaders in that loved the advantages that I came with, although like my parents, they looked good to the outside world with decent education and stable jobs. My account was ours and their accounts were theirs.

I had lots of therapy over the years and now am in as peaceful a place I can be. But perhaps involving myself with  a benevolent martyr type of partner means I’ve yet a long way to go to my recovery…

I now have a different and a very generous kind of partner (to his own detriment with the stepsatans). Which can be infuriating and is the only cause for our occasional arguments.  I’m keeping my home as my sanctuary and no longer letting the chaos and destruction over the doorstep. I often think of the fairytales where the main character (the Snow White etc.) have the power they don’t know they have - to not let the destruction in. All these evil characters first must trick her with their fake kindness or need for help, so that she can invite them in. But if she does not invite them in, they have no power to hurt her.

Last edited by BanksiaRose (11/16/2025 4:34 am)

Kes wrote:

Banksia Rose - I am so so sorry to hear about the horribly abusive childhood and growing up years you suffered with your "outwardly" successful parents who were in fact, horrible violent narcissists.  I am so glad that your therapy has led you to a fairly peaceful place - you deserve it!  I think if my parents had been as physically abusive as yours, I would have cut off all contact - I probably should have anyway, but it's all water under the bridge now, they've both been dead many years.  I think all of us who've grown up abused (my parents mainly abused me with neglect rather than active cruelty), remain a work in progress all our lives, but at least we are progressing - we're self aware, unlike our parents.  
Well done for taking good care of yourself even though your parents didn't.  

Thank you, Kes. My relationship with them is now limited to  superficial phone calls about twice month. And the general pictures I send to the family chat to provide a sense of engagement and reduce the necessity of those phone calls as well as a flying visit every few years, always with my partner in tow to ensure the absence of any deeper conversations. It’s not that easy to cut your parents off, especially when they’re part of a larger family fabric, which would mean additional complications.

And you’re right about work in progress. I remember the sadness of coming to this very realisation many years ago, as I was simultaneously relinquishing the naïve hope of being able to “erase” trauma with good therapy as if it never happened. But, like you’re saying, we’re doing very well, given everything.

Last edited by BanksiaRose (11/16/2025 7:56 am)

My heart breaks for all who have suffered as many have.  

It gives me a major reminder of how blessed my journey has always been.  Even in the blended family world.

Last edited by Rags (11/17/2025 3:49 pm)

Kes wrote:

Mia - it's interesting, isn't it - about which of parents' children evolve to walk in lockstep, as you say, with them.  I had two brothers - the elder took his own life at 27 as a result of my parents' treatment of him - my other brother worshipped my parents - called my mother a "remarkable woman" whereas in fact she was autistic and neglectful of all her children.  He doesn't do that any more but all the same, is delusional about reality whilst thinking he knows better than anyone.   One of the good things about my parents is that they were old - my mother had me when she was 40 and my father 43 - and they died comparatively early in my life - Dad died when I was in my early 40s and Mum when I was in my early 50s. I have been free of both of them, thankfully, for many years.  It's great that you and your brother have a good relationship.  I always wanted one with my surviving brother, but he is just downright weird and not really capable of the kind of relationship I would like! 

My oldest sister has a daughter who is the typical "flying monkey." I hear that she vomits on social media about how wonderful her mother is (SD and SS have always done that about BM, too). My oldest sister's other daughter has taken hold of me as a surrogate mom and my sister has nothing to do with her (the feeling is mutual at this point).  I'm happy to fill that role. My soon-to-be homeless sister also has one daughter who doesn't speak to her. That daughter, too, has a great relationship with me and my brother. 

People make things so complicated. 

I am very sorry about your brother! 

Last edited by MorningMia (11/18/2025 7:19 am)